


See The Sky

by orbitalpudding (heyguysjeremyheere)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Richie’s depressed, Stan and Eddie being friends, chapter 3 type thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25382350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyguysjeremyheere/pseuds/orbitalpudding
Summary: The death of Eddie Kaspbrak hit everyone hard, but Richie Tozier especially. While the rest of the losers find happiness in their lives, Richie can’t move forward from losing the love of his life.Deep in the wreckage of a collapsed house, something stirs. With IT eliminated, those it killed return from the dead. Though they have nothing and can’t seem to find a way out, a leader emerges and will stop at nothing to save them all.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Home?

**Author's Note:**

> Alright welcome to the fic! Haven’t written one of these in a long time. I won’t keep you all long but I should mention a couple trigger warnings before we get into it. These are all overarching themes of the story, but I’ll put more for specific chapters if they require them. 
> 
> TWs: suicide mentions/ideation, alcoholism, drug addiction, internalized homophobia 
> 
> I’d say have fun reading but honestly it won’t be that fun. Don’t suffer too much reading.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie returns to LA and makes bad decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No specific warnings for this one!

Airplanes had a certain smell to them, Richie noticed. He had been noticing this every time he had gotten on a plane since he was younger, but now it seemed like that smell could choke him. Recycled air forcing the scent of bad coffee and hot breath and a medley of other unpleasant things down everyone’s throats. Richie adjusted his glasses and squinted at the window, considering just how bad it would be to punch a hole in it so he could take a long inhale of fresh air before the plane crashed because of what he did. 

But that would kill all the other people on the plane along with him, and he didn’t want to cause any more damage than he already had. He didn’t have it in him to take down innocent families vacationing to LA or 18-year old celebrity hopefuls making the same pilgrimage to the land of fame he had made so many years ago. 

Instead of doing anything stupid like breaking the window, he settled on going to sleep instead. There were several benefits to this. He would get sleep for the first time in days and no one would bother him to ask for a picture or an autograph if he was asleep. Someone already had, before the plane had taken off. A teenage girl in a John Mulaney tee shirt. He had made some comment about the irony of the situation and put on a fake smile as she held the phone up to take a “selfie.” As much as he didn’t want to, he wasn’t going to refuse and end up on some website’s list of mean celebrities. 

That was all over now, though. He closed his eyes and relaxed into his neck pillow, frowning as the image that had been burned into his mind permanently every time he even so much as blinked. Eddie, beautiful Eddie, wonderful and sweet Eddie with syrupy red blood dripping down his chin and vacant glossy eyes with no life inside of them. He could almost sense his own screams though it was just a picture in his head. 

He opened his eyes, aching for a drink. The benefits of flying first class reared their head, and in just a moment, he had a strong whiskey in his hand, the smell of it alone relaxing him. The sip was even better. Already the taste was melting away some of the tension. He’d been drinking at every chance he’d gotten since what had happened. It was the only way he could feel even remotely okay. He didn’t have a problem, not in his own definition at least. A few days of excess was nothing compared to what he used to do. No...he was alright. 

By now the combination of exhaustion and alcohol had tugged him forcefully into sleep. If he knew what would come next, he wouldn’t have let himself drift off. But dreams are unfortunately unpredictable and so Richie was faced with Eddie in Neibolt once again. 

“Richie...I’m here.” Eddie’s eyes filled with life. He wrapped his arms around Richie’s middle and squeezed as tightly as he could. For a moment, Richie thought he could hold on to him, keep him alive. As long as he didn’t let go. 

But he was tugged back by some unknown force and Eddie decayed right before his eyes. “You did this! You couldn’t save me! It’s all your fault, Richie! Your dirty secret made me die. Did you actually think I’d feel the same? Think I’d ever love a fag like you? No Richie, no way.” And that arm shot through his stomach yet again. 

Richie woke up with a jump, looking around to make sure he wasn’t really back there, that it had all been a dream. His glass was empty. It didn’t matter much anyway, they were landing. 

He was off the plane as fast as he could be. He only took a carry on so he didn’t have to wait for the baggage carousel. He was in his red Corvette sitting in the parking lot before he knew it. It was similar to the car he had rented in Derry, but that was just a coincidence really. Being home was different. He couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad different, but all that mattered right now was that it was in fact different. 

The first thing he did was call Steve. His manager of almost twenty years had seen it all with him, and he had been angrily expecting a call since Richie had gotten to Derry. He had put up with Richie for so long that Richie knew he could find a little comfort in whatever words he had to say about Eddie. “Steve? It’s me.”

He picked up within a fraction of a second. “Jesus fuck, it’s been a week. Are you finally done with your breakdown?” 

“I wasn’t—“ But that wouldn’t be true if he told Steve that. “Just had to deal with some shit. My childhood best friend—“ And that broke him. Before he could even finish the sentence he was choked by a sob. Luckily not a lot of people were around in the parking lot because he was sure that he looked completely insane. Paparazzi and tabloid photographers would have a field day with all the rumors they could start just from one picture of this. 

“I’m fucking gay Steve.” 

It wasn’t nearly as hard to say as he thought it would be. Though the sobs and the shaking and in the middle of an airport parking lot, those few words were just words. A fact that wasn’t even close to the most important fact about his life right now. 

“Well no shit, Tozier. I’ve known that for years. Have you been drinking? Don’t drive home if you’ve been drinking, I don’t need another DUI on your record. Just let me come get you.” Despite his harshness, Richie smiled at the slight change in tone when he offered to drive him home. He cared. No matter how much he refused to admit it, he cared. 

“Yeah. Come get me. And uh...was it obvious? That I’m...yknow.” Now that his pain had been safely stored deep inside him again, it became difficult once again to talk about his little secret. “I mean I know all the fake girlfriend shit, but I just sorta thought that happened to every celebrity.” He wiped his eyes, relaxing into the plush leather seats of the car. 

“Honey, it takes one to know one. I mean I’m surprised it took you this long to come out to me. In 2002? Yeah alright, I could see why you wouldn’t want to, but it’s not like I ever hid it and you could’ve told me.” There was too long of a pause. “You’re not gonna come out publicly yet, right? I’d have to prepare for that. Don’t say anything until I give you the okay.”

As great as Steve could be, he could also suck. It wasn’t his fault, though. He couldn’t possibly know how every time Richie heard him talk about his secret, it made him sick to his stomach. He regretted telling him at all now. In a moment of weakness, he had spilled the secret and now he had to deal with all the ramifications. “No, I’m not saying anything. In fact, forget I told you anything.” He had mastered the art of turning phrases filled with hurt into simple jokes. Something said offhand to incite a chuckle from whoever it was said to, a chuckle meant to distract from the true meaning of the statement. 

And it worked. Steve chuckled softly, sucked in a loud breath, and then spoke again. “My uber is almost at the airport. Sit tight, I’m gonna hang up now. Bye Tozier.” 

“Bye Steve.” He hung up the call and sighed. In almost twenty years, Steve had only called him Richie once. It was always Tozier or Trashmouth or, jokingly, My Star. He had always liked that one even if it was just a tease. It made him feel like he could be something, and in those early days, he really did need that reassurance. He closed his eyes and managed to sink even farther into the seats. 

By the time he woke up, Steve was gently tapping his shoulder. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, unlocking the doors. “You’re a lifesaver, Steve.” He got out of the car and let Steve climb into the driver seat as he moved to the passenger side. He smiled slightly, but that smile grew when he realized that Steve was handing over a large iced coffee to him. He sipped it right away. “I could kiss you, Steve.” He didn’t mean it. He said things like that to Steve all the time. 

“You’ve never kissed a guy in your life, Tozier. I think I’m out of your league.” Steve laughed without a care and then glanced over at Richie, who for sure wasn’t laughing. “Aw don’t tell me you have trauma or something. Can we not flirt anymore?” 

Richie opened his mouth to answer but it was suddenly dry. He took a sip of coffee out of necessity. “He’s dead. The guy...The guy I wanted to be with forever. It was a total freak accident.” All of the losers had agreed upon the story. He had practiced it over and over again. It was so easy to recite. “We were all exploring this abandoned house and it just...collapsed. Cuz it was on top of like a sinkhole or something. Can’t even get the body.” That was what they had told Myra. Not Richie. No, the losers had been kind enough to not make him have to deliver that news. Bill made the call, Mike was there too. Richie was at the kissing bridge with a swiss army knife.

The story was so disconnected from the truth that it didn’t even make him cry. That was the death of some other person, one that Richie had nothing to do with. But Steve seemed upset. It made sense. The story was sad. “Christ Tozier that’s terrible. Are you gonna be okay?”

In Steve language, that meant “Are we going to have to cancel the tour?” So Richie took a while to answer. Long enough that they were back at Richie’s large house and the coffee was gone. He got out of the car and waited for Steve at the door leading into the house from the garage. Once again, he found his gaze following him as he walked up close. Really close. He could hear him breathing. This was powerful. This strange urge that swept over him suddenly. 

“I’ll be okay,” he breathed out, staring into Steve’s green eyes that were flecked with little gold spots he had never noticed before. He got the distinct sense that things were just happening to him instead of him causing them himself. He felt himself pull Steve up by the collar, kiss him hard. It all happened in slow motion somehow, even though it actually happened impossibly fast. Hands on waists, tongues in mouths, chests pressed together as they weaved the complicated pattern of this kiss.

The problem with trying to weave without any skill is that it only ends in knots. Steve broke the kiss after a little while. He tried to hide it but he was smiling. “Go to sleep. It’s late.” He smoothed out the wrinkles he had left on Richie’s shirt, speaking kindly enough that Richie couldn’t possibly feel guilty about what he just had done. 

“Okay mom,” he teased, licking his lips as he unlocked the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then Richie slid inside the house and closed the door behind him, leaning against the wall right away and sighing. He had to reach up and touch his lips to make sure that had really happened. He ran his fingers over his lips over and over, trying to understand the sensation. 

He had kissed Steve. Contrary to what that very man had said, it wasn’t the first time he had kissed a guy. Only once, but still. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried to block out the memory, but he couldn’t. It was the summer of ‘94, the last day before the first of the losers left for college. Of course, they had to have a big party. That meant drinking. A lot of it. Richie and Bev had sort of peer pressured Eddie into letting loose and having a few drinks. It turned out he was a total lightweight. Even after the first drink, he was totally wasted. 

Richie knew he shouldn’t have done anything. He shouldn’t have let Eddie get so close. Shouldn’t have let him lead Richie into a bedroom and slow dance for a song that seemed to let hours. He shouldn’t have leaned in when Eddie did and pressed his lips to those incredibly soft ones. Most definitely, out of all the things he shouldn’t have done, he shouldn’t have lied to Eddie who didn’t remember anything the next day about what had happened. 

None of that mattered now though. Eddie was dead. Richie just had to accept that and move on. He poured another glass of whiskey for himself and went out on his balcony off of his bedroom. The chill of the night air was undone by the heat of the whiskey. He stared upwards, sighing. At least he could see the sky. 

Across the country, so far away, Eddie Kaspbrak stared upwards too. The cave was too dark to see anything, but he imagined as he closed his eyes again that he could, too, see the sky.


	2. Far From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie wakes up and finds that he’s not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey sorry this took so long but right after the first chapter went up i got really busy and my mental health got real bad. then when i was finally ready to publish this, there was a hurricane and i lost power for 2 days. but it’s here now!! 
> 
> TW for drug addiction/withdrawal in this chapter

The one thing Eddie didn’t expect to be was alive. Now there weren’t a lot of things that he did expect to be either, being dead and all, but alive was certainly on the list of things he knew he wouldn’t be. 

Except here he was. Thinking thoughts when he was absolutely sure that hadn’t been happening just a minute ago. He forced his eyes open but they were unadjusted to the darkness. He could tell where he was, at least. The hard rock formation was all too familiar against his back. To his surprise though, his shirt didn’t stick to him anymore. It wasn’t slick with blood all over. He made a move to sit up, only expecting to get a tiny bit of the way there before feeling the intense pain in his middle, but he was able to sit all the way up and twist around enough to crack his back without any pain at all. Hesitantly, he reached a hand up the inside of his shirt and felt around for any sign of a wound. He only touched smooth, unmarred skin and dried blood caked around where there should’ve been a hole.

“What the fuck…” he whispered to himself, trying to look around at his surroundings as if that might clue him into what was happening. His eyes adjusted slightly more, but only enough to see a figure near him. He may only have seen a couple of photos of what the man looked like currently, but he could devise well enough from having known him for all his formative years that the figure standing there was in fact, Stanley Uris. “Stan? Is that you?”

Eddie stood too as he spoke, blinking repeatedly a few times in an attempt to force his eyes to adjust faster. He walked closer to Stan, every step tentative as if he might collapse at any moment and go back to being dead, which despite the evidence pointing otherwise, he knew he had been. 

The figure turned around as Eddie took a step. They were just inches apart now. “Eddie? What are you doing down here?” It was certainly Stan. No question about that anymore. This didn’t help much, though, since there were so many other questions that needed to be asked.

“I...I think It killed me? We were all fighting and I died, I’m sure of it. But there’s nothing--” He rolled up his shirt to prove his point. “And how are you alive? Your wife said you died!” Eddie let out an exasperated sigh, already getting frustrated that he didn’t have all the answers right away. He let his shirt drop and shook his head. “This is fucking crazy.”

Stan reached out and touched Eddie’s shoulder, and admittedly, it did calm him down a little. The losers were gone. Eddie was trapped in this hellhole. But Stan was with him. He smiled a little. “Thanks,” he breathed. 

Stan let his hand drop. “When I first got the call from Mike, I knew It was back. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fight. But I did some research, really deep digging, and I found something. An old Native American legend that seemed to imply that if It was destroyed, everyone It had killed would return. I figured just maybe I’d come back too.” He explained it so simply that Eddie didn’t even realize the gravity of his words. Of course, Stan couldn’t have known if he would come back or not or if anyone would come back for that matter. And even more so, he began to understand that they weren’t alone down here. Not by a long shot. He hadn’t noticed it before but there were other noises coming from around the two of them. Little footsteps and hushed voices in questioning tones. The children. There were so many children. 

Eddie fished his phone out of his pocket. It was heavily cracked, had a significant amount of blood caked on it, and he didn’t get any cell service down here, but to his surprise the flashlight turned on when he tapped the screen. At first only the floor was illuminated, but then he shined the light on Stan first, followed by the rest of the cave. 

What, or really who, he saw truly startled him. Georgie, standing with two arms and a slight smile up at Eddie and Stan. He waved and his smile grew. “Where are we?” his little voice asked as he walked right up to Eddie and stared up at him. 

Of course Georgie wouldn’t recognize either of them. It had been several decades since he had last seen them. Eddie wondered how he would explain what had happened, but while he was thinking, Stan spoke up instead. 

“This is gonna sound crazy, but I’m Stan and that’s Eddie. It’s been a long time. Bill’s our age too. You’re gonna get to see him again. We just have to get out of here first.” He held out his hand for Georgie to take, and right away he did take it. Eddie knew he wouldn’t have done the same in this situation, but then again Georgie was young and innocent and had never dealt with what Eddie had. 

“You guys are old,” he said with a little laugh, swinging his and Stan’s arms back and forth as he rocked on his heels. That got a chuckle out of both Stan and Eddie. They were old. And while it might’ve been offensive in another situation, Eddie knew that he was desperate for a laugh and he figured Stan was too. Speaking of which, they were completely trapped down here. From all the debris that Eddie could see based on where he shined the flashlight, the house had caved in at some point. He didn’t know how long ago. It could be a whole different day for all Eddie knew. And then there was the problem of all the children running around in all this nasty sewer water. Yeah, they had to get out soon.

“So...Stan can we...find a way out of here? I mean it doesn’t seem safe to have all these kids running around here and plus there can’t be that much air and not to mention drinkable water and food. I say we get moving right away. I’m gonna check if the passage out got blocked.” There was no swaying Eddie once he got an idea in his head. In just a few seconds, he had walked over to the entrance to the passage and started to pull jagged wood fragments away from it. Fear wasn’t a factor anymore. After what had happened, he felt almost invincible. “Can you help me get this cleared?” he called to Stan. 

The curly haired man had to shake off several children, some babbling in different languages and some wearing clothing that looked like it could’ve come right out of the past. They seemed to have clung to Stan by default. Eddie watched as he told a girl, maybe 13, to watch them all before he walked over to where Eddie stood at the passage. “It’s blocked?”

Eddie nodded, tugging at a particularly jammed piece of debris to prove his point. “But I think it’s just blocked here, not the whole passage. There’s a little light coming through.” He tugged at the piece of wood again, half-frantic. 

Stan joined in, and together they were able to dislodge it. Now to rally the troops. Eddie moved into the middle, climbing on top of a rock pile. “Hey! Everyone!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “I know you’re all confused but we need to get out of here. Can anyone over twelve come up here? We’re gonna split up into groups and I want the older kids to be group leaders.” He had been a camp counselor in college at a sleep away camp. It was the only job he could get that would assure he wouldn’t have to be around his mother. Now all that knowledge of how to wrangle kids that he never thought he’d use again was proving useful. 

A group of about ten kids shuffled forward. Among them, someone Eddie really didn’t want to see. Patrick Hockstetter, alive and well and standing moodily off to the side from the rest of the group. As much as they needed all the group leaders they could get, Eddie didn’t trust Patrick any further than he could throw him. He knew it wouldn’t matter that he was older now. Once Patrick found out who he was, that was it. Any sense of authority would be lost. 

That shouldn’t have made him as nervous as it did. Patrick wouldn’t find out unless Eddie was painfully obvious about it, so he just had to be nothing like himself. Even with that at the back of his mind, he was able to get Stan to divide the kids into ten groups and assign the group leaders. Things were going well. They were all waiting at the entrance of the passage, listening intently to Eddie’s directions. One group at a time, stay together, him and Stan at the front with the flashlight. It should all work. They could all get out safely and back to their lives in no time. 

Except it wasn’t like that at all. Eddie shined the flashlight deeper into the passage and saw jagged shards of wood as far as the light would allow him to see. The younger kids would be able to get through easily, but anyone over four feet would struggle. Eddie looked at Stan and saw that his face held the same scared expression. 

“Okay, everyone be careful! If you get cut, tell your group leader and they’ll wrap it in fabric to stop the bleeding,” he called back to everyone. Then he turned towards the path ahead again and began to duck and step over the jagged shards as he needed to, Stan by his side. 

He didn’t know how long they had been walking for, but he knew it felt like a long time. Long enough that Eddie breathed heavier and longed for something to take the edge off. He hadn’t thought to bring anything down here, but now he regretted that decision. In this stressful situation, of course he would want a pill to help out. There was nothing wrong with that. Even when he began to tremble a little, he refused to admit that there was an issue. It had been like this for years. Myra turned a blind eye or even encouraged it sometimes under the guise of telling him he needed the pills to help his illnesses, and no one else knew the true extent of the situation. 

Despite the denial, he couldn’t go on thinking about it every second. He struck up a conversation with Stan. “What do you think will happen when we get out of here?” he asked, the unnaturally casual tone in his voice almost giving away his ulterior motive for asking.

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” Stan answered after a moment of silence. He still kept that quiet calmness, but Eddie had known him long enough to know that inside, he felt anything but. And Eddie couldn’t blame him. They came back from the dead. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to explain all this away. It wasn’t just the two of them, either. They would emerge from here with hundreds of children, some of whom were just recently deceased and some who had been dead for hundreds of years and didn’t speak English. 

“We could go to Mike.” The suggestion left Eddie’s mouth before his brain could process the thought. Something about native american languages had set the train in motion and besides, Mike was the only loser left in Derry. Even if he hadn’t been conveniently well-versed in history, they didn’t have any other options. 

Stan cracked a small smile. “That’s a damn good idea.” He ducked under a piece of wood. “He’s gonna know what to do.” He turned around to glance at the rest of the group and Eddie turned with him. They were all still there as far as Eddie could see. This was all going well. They would make it out. 

“Thanks.” He chuckled a little, looking down. “When everything goes back to normal, what are you gonna do?” he asked after a few more minutes of walking. The shaking was getting worse, but Eddie pressed on and dodged the wood almost frantically. 

“Go home to my wife. Never leave her again.” It seemed like such an effortless answer for Stan, like it was the one thing he wanted more than anything else. Eddie tried to find that same passion in himself. He dug deep, but it just wasn’t there. He dreaded going home to Myra. She would never let him out of her sight again. He let out a breath, long and slow and almost painful.

“I—“

“I sent everyone letters. Mostly the same, but there’s different advice in it for each person. I guess since you’re here I could tell you what yours says now.” 

Eddie knew why Stan wanted to tell him this now. He knew exactly what was coming. He had to make a joke, though, just to make sure they were on the same page. “Yeah, my wife would probably rip it up anyway.” He even forced a laugh to make it seem like it was just an innocent joke. 

The look on Stan’s face proved Eddie was right. Totally serious. “That’s...part of the problem. I mean, I’m not the first one to say it but you gotta accept yourself. Stop being so afraid to stand up because you think you’ll fail. I’m gonna use Richie’s words. Really this is all stuff he told me as kids. He knows you’re brave, knows you’re strong, knows you deserve good things in your life. He cares about you, Eddie. He cares about you so fucking much.” Stan stopped talking, but it seemed like he had more words itching to spill out. 

Was it surprising? Not really. Eddie knew, had always known, really, that Richie cared about him. Of course Richie cared about him. Eddie had struggled for years with understanding the ways Richie cared about him and how that caring made him feel. After a while he had stopped trying to understand and decided to not think about it instead. 

Conveniently, it was not long after Eddie made that choice that he forgot about Richie entirely, moving away from Derry and away from his entire life. That forgetting allowed him to meet Myra and end up in his current situation. As soon as he realized that fact, the anger hit him hard. “I can’t stay with her, Stan,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I can’t go back to Myra. I’m never gonna be happy with her. I have to—I have to go to Richie.” 

Maybe it was the lack of pills in his system, but the only thought he could think was that he had to get to Richie. If he got to Richie, everything would be okay. And it was at that moment that he caught a glimpse of something. Deep blue satin dotted with bright white dots peeking through an opening at the end of the passage. They were almost there. “Stan I can see it! We’re so close!” His feet pounded on the solid rock floor as he ran. Yes, he ran. He hadn’t ran like this since he was young, free and wild and usually away from dangerous people but even that didn’t matter because Eddie loved running. He loved hearing his steps echoing and the wind on his face and the way it made his heart pump unlike anything else. Eddie ran until he was out of the passage and wrapped in the night’s cool embrace. He stared up at the sky and imagined that somewhere else, Richie was staring up too. He had no way of knowing that the other man had the same thought at the same time.


End file.
